


Would you go the mountains?

by Liliriu



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, Demonic Possession, Falling In Love, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Philosophy, Romance, Tags May Change, thus spake zarathustra
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:40:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29410638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liliriu/pseuds/Liliriu
Summary: Kaiba and Bakura do a school assignment together.*Sigh*I'm obsessed with pairing those two for ages, but they won't cooperate. This is not good, but ok for fanfic standards, I guess. I might delete it eventually.Update: some people liked it so it's maybe not as bad as I thought. I'm continuing it, anyway. Not sure where it is going. Kaiba/Ryou is the main ship. Yami Bakura will be doing Yami Bakura stuff. And some OOC Yami Bakura stuff as well.Warnings: probably underage sex in later chapters.
Relationships: Bakura Ryou/Kaiba Seto, Bakura Ryou/Yami Bakura
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

A mental illness, that was all it was. Certainly not demonic possession, that didn’t even make sense. No supernatural shit, only his brain being 100% naturally fucked up. Failing to do its one job and perceive reality as it was. A mental illness, that was all, he even had a psychiatric diagnosis to prove it. He even had psychiatric pills in his cabinet to prove it… when had he taken them for the last time? Wait, he did not have pills, he had thrown them away in a panic attack a couple of weeks ago, after reading an article on how dangerous psychiatric medicines were. He could not just go to the pharmacy and ask for more, that would cause suspect. He would just need to wait until the next month.

Never mind, the important thing was that he was aware. Aware that this was not real, that the shadows were inside his head. The shadows, the disassociation, the memory lapses… all of this was his head. And the figure gazing from the mirror…? That was called a reflection, for God’s sake. And the voices as he fell asleep were called dreams. But what about his friends? Which friends? You know, those friends… the friends you used to have… Correlation does not imply causation. No, that was not it, there was not even correlation, because he had never had friends. There was loneliness, and maybe there was causation, actually; the loneliness had caused him to go mad, or the madness to go lonely, or maybe it was both ways…?

“Would you do that?”

The person asking the question was his class mate, Seto Kaiba.

“Sorry, what?”

“I asked if you would leave everything behind, and go to the mountains.”

Ryou raised an eyebrow.

“Like Zarathustra, the character in the book. Are you even listening?”

“Sorry, I kind of spaced out,” Ryou smiled his best apologetic smile.

The other boy was Seto Kaiba, his class mate. The place was Kaiba’s house, mansion, whatever. He was Ryou Bakura, and he had arrived by bus. The reason that he was there was in order to read a book, so they could write a report about it, hand it to the teacher and get a grade. Because that was the way in which schools worked. The book was Thus Spake Zarathustra, and was written by a guy called Friedrich Nietzsche. Kaiba had picked it and Ryou had agreed because he didn’t care. The main character, or only character, was Zarathustra, a mystic type who had left everything behind and went to live in the mountains, but then he had came back, and spent his time preaching in the marketplace, or something.

Would he? Would he leave everything behind? That would had been the right thing to do, at least; actively choosing loneliness, instead of helplessly letting it happen to him. The other boy was Seto Kaiba, and he was very handsome. It would be nice to touch him, perhaps then he wouldn’t feel so lonely anymore. How lonely could he be, wanting to be friends with Seto Kaiba? Everybody knew that the guy was an asshole. But not to him, Kaiba was actually quite nice to him. Perhaps he felt sorry for him, or saw no threat in him. How desperate could he be, the guy was a bit nice to him and he…

“Bakura? You’re spacing out again, are you all right?”

“Sorry…” Bakura smiled again, “I don’t know, maybe I would… go live in the mountains, I mean. Why do you ask?”

Kaiba shrugged. “Just curious. I guess that you seem like the type. Are sure you’re all right?”

Again this kind, concerned voice. He had bright blue eyes and neatly cut dark hair. He was wearing a black turtleneck and black jeans, which fitted perfectly to his slender body. Why did he have to be handsome and nice? This was not demonic possession, there was no ancient spirit wiping the minds of his friends. There were no friends… But what if there was the slightest chance that there was? “Maybe I would go, but not because I want to,” he thought.

“Bakura, we can stop now if you want. We can continue on another day.”

“I am all right, keep reading.”

Kaiba looked dubious for a moment, but he kept reading. He had a pleasant voice.

***

Bakura was a nice boy, and he was also smart, that was the reason that Kaiba always chose to work with him in pair assignments: smart saved time. But honestly, the boy’s looks scared him. He was not sure exactly why; Bakura was not ugly, quite the opposite, actually. He had cream colored skin and long white hair, and was dressed in soft shades of grey and blue. His face looked very soft as well; all plump cheeks and big, big eyes. Perhaps this was precisely what made him scary, it did not seem normal for a boy his age to look so soft; the plump cheeks looked wrong in a way, given how skinny the rest of his body was. And the eyes were just too big, they made him seem like an anime character more than an actual person. Again, he was not ugly, scary or not. His face was quite adorable, and his skinny waist seemed to beg to be touched.

No, he was not scary as in “being scared from,” but as in “being scared for.” That was it, the boy seemed almost transparent, as if every moment he could disappear. And the fact that he was beautiful caused you to care. Or maybe simply to want to get laid, and care enough to allow this to happen. But that was not the time for it, the boy seemed to be sick. Besides, they had a school assignment to finish.

***

The boy sat on his lap had silver hair, long and messy. His feline face was close and very beautiful, with white perfect skin and a devilish smile. It was his own face, but not his own smile. He blinked, but the other boy was still there. Blinked again, and he was gone. For a fraction of a second, he could still feel the weight on his lap, and then it was gone as well. There was a room around him. A beautiful room, full of expensive furniture; seemed to belong inside a mansion. It did belong inside a mansion, Seto Kaiba’s mansion, and Seto Kaiba himself was there, leaning in front of him, looking at him with a worried expression. He was saying something. It would be nice for Seto Kaiba to touch him. “I am fine,” said Ryou.

Ryou blinked. There was a room around him. A beautiful room. Yeah, he knew, that was Seto Kaiba’s mansion, and this was Seto Kaiba’s concerned face. The thing touching his lips was water. He drank it. “I am fine. I’m sorry, I kind of spaced out. Where were we?”

“We’ll continue tomorrow,” said Kaiba, “you are sick. You’re going to sleep now.” He paused for a moment, and clarified, “You’re sleeping here.”

Kaiba’s voice was low an authoritative, was he really a boy his age? Didn’t he run a corporation or something? He wanted Kaiba to touch him. Why was the spirit there again?

The movement woke him up. The spirit was not there, there was no spirit at all. The movement was Seto Kaiba carrying him somewhere. Up some stairs. His touch was cool. His arms seemed strong. He closed his eyes.

***

Kaiba put the boy on the bed and took his shoes off. He covered him with the blanket and looked at him for a moment. He looked angelical in his sleep; shiny hair spread over his forehead, his eyelashes long and black, his lips slim and perfect. It was not like he had ever cared about such things as integrity; he leaned and kissed those perfect lips. He then left the room.


	2. Chapter 2

Ryou wakes up in a strange room, dimly illuminated by soft velvety light, its source unclear. He rises up on the bed, which have already adjusted itself to his shape. There is a boy sitting on a chair next to the bed, crossing his long, white legs. Those are nice legs, and Ryou ask himself if the boy is doing it on purpose, since he had had those thoughts lately, wondering this thing about himself.

He overcomes his fear and looks above the boy’s legs. He must be about Ryou’s age, and is wearing very small, very ripped shorts. His shirt is similar to Ryou’s, but he has tied it up like some bimbo, in order to expose his tummy, which is slim but so soft that it still folds a little above his shorts. Ryou would not like to poke a finger inside it. He would not like to then lick the finger, like you would lick a finger covered by cream or cake dough. The boy is most definitely doing it on purpose. Finally, Ryou's looks at the boy’s face, unsurprised to see himself looking back.

Not himself-himself, but the other one; the demon, spirit, thing, whatever. No one in his right mind would confuse him with Ryou; his posture and expression are completely different, as well as his sense of humor: he is wearing reading glasses and has put a pencil behind his ear, like a librarian’s caricature. The obviously missing item is a book. But he does have one, it is leaning open above his lap. He licks a finger and turns a page. Ryou had never seen someone doing that in real life. The spirit begins to read:

> _To the despisers of the body will I speak my word. I wish them neither to learn afresh, nor teach anew, but only to bid farewell to their own bodies,--and thus be dumb._
> 
> _"Body am I, and soul"--so saith the child. And why should one not speak like children?_
> 
> _But the awakened one, the knowing one, saith: "Body am I entirely, and nothing more; and soul is only the name of something in the body."_

Ryou knows this book, it’s Thus Spake Zarathustra, the one that Kaiba was reading before.

> _The body is a big sagacity, a plurality with one sense, a war and a peace, a flock and a shepherd. An instrument of thy body is also thy little sagacity, my brother, which thou callest "spirit"--a little instrument and plaything of thy big sagacity._
> 
> _"Ego," sayest thou, and art proud of that word. But the greater thing—in which thou art unwilling to believe--is thy body with its big sagacity; it saith not "ego," but doeth it._

Since when is the spirit interested in Philosophy, again?

> _What the sense feeleth, what the spirit discerneth, hath never its end in itself. But sense and spirit would fain persuade thee that they are the end of all things: so vain are they._
> 
> _Instruments and playthings are sense and spirit: behind them there is still the Self. The Self seeketh with the eyes of the senses, it hearkeneth also with the ears of the spirit._

He stares at the spirit’s face. Well, he can be interested in whatever he likes, Ryou does not actually mind. But he still wonders why has he decided to read that to him; is he trying to tell him something? The spirit notices his gaze, and returns it. There is a momentaneous, strange sheen in his eyes. He keeps reading:

> _Ever hearkeneth the Self, and seeketh; it compareth, mastereth, conquereth, and destroyeth. It ruleth, and is also the ego's ruler._
> 
> _Behind thy thoughts and feelings, my brother, there is a mighty lord, an unknown sage--it is called Self; it dwelleth in thy body, it is thy body._

The spirits stops. He looks at Ryou inquisitively. “Do you understand, host?”

Does he? He straightens. “I think so,” he says.

The spirit stands up, leaving the book on the chair. He climbs to the bed, and draws closer to Ryou. His proximity makes Ryou uncomfortable, but he’s unsure why. Whatever it is, the spirit must be immune, since he keeps getting closer, to the point where he’s just far enough for the two not to touch. He has taken off his glasses, and is now reciting by heart:

> _There is more sagacity in thy body than in thy best wisdom. And who then knoweth why thy body requireth just thy best wisdom?_
> 
> _Thy Self laugheth at thine ego, and its proud prancings. "What are these prancings and flights of thought unto me?" it saith to itself. "A by-way to my purpose. I am the leading-string of the ego, and the prompter of its notions."_

Ryou can smell the spirit’s warm, minty breath. He does not want to stroke the wild, electrical waves of his hair. He does not want to kiss his soft lips.

> _The Self saith unto the ego: "Feel pain!" And thereupon it suffereth, and thinketh how it may put an end thereto--and for that very purpose it IS MEANT to think._

The spirit has dark, impenetrable eyes, and the skin around them is transparent; you can see the delicate veins through the skin, like the veins of a flower. Ryou can feel his own eyelids, how they are as fine and as delicate; bursting with pain almost to become pleasure, yet stuck in a state of dissatisfaction. A mere ghost of the sensation between his legs. He reaches with his hand, towards the face’s fair lines. Unyielding, the spirit keeps reciting:

> _The Self saith unto the ego: "Feel pleasure!" Thereupon it rejoiceth, and thinketh how it may ofttimes rejoice--and for that very purpose it IS MEANT to think._

The spirit’s flesh, which looked so tangible but a moment ago, dissolves into fog as it is met by Ryou's hand. He keeps exploring, tentatively, approaching the neck and the chest. Wherever he touches, he finds swirling fog, which returns to its original, tangible-seeming position whenever his hand is removed. The spirit either does not notice, or is not at all surprised.

> _To the despisers of the body will I speak a word. That they despise is caused by their esteem. What is it that created esteeming and despising and worth and will?_
> 
> _The creating Self created for itself esteeming and despising, it created for itself joy and woe. The creating body created for itself spirit, as a hand to its will._

He quiets down. He draws even closer, breaths on Ryou’s neck, leans a knee on Ryou's lap. It is a curious sensation; the sight of the knee over his body, missing the feeling of its weight. The spirit’s whispering voice is hot, somewhat husky and rosy. “So, what does it mean?” 

“It means…”

The spirit stares at him, as an implacable teacher.

“It means that we just think that our mind controls our body… That what we call ‘our mind,’ ‘our self,’ is next to nothing. It is only one more, not even particularly significant, function of the body.”

The spirit nods, as to signify that Ryou is in the right direction. He gazes directly at him with his dark butcher’s eyes. Such magnificent eyes; Ryou can see little spots of light reflected on the liquid, transparent surface of the cornea. He can see the whites and the greys around the dark iris, and the minuscule veins. He wants to scream in agony.

“And what does that mean?”

Ryou smiles. “It means that you are not real. You are not a spirit invading my body; there are no such things! You, and me, we are just tiny, insignificant parts of…”

But the spirit is leant back, laughing his maniacal laugh. “You… you idiot…” he gets hold of himself, stops laughing at least momentarily. He grips Ryou’s hand with his own, which, Ryou notices, is now as tangible as anyone would assume. “It means”, he goes on, “that this Nietzsche your boyfriend admires so much, knows absolutely nothing!” He grips a little harder, digging his nails. He says in mock agony, “please tell him to stop reading this shit and find some better way to use his time…”

Ryou wants to say that Kaiba does a lot of things, he probably almost doesn't have any time to read; yet the spirit is gone. The room is clean, spacious and bright; as warm, comforting sunlight enters through the open wide window. Ryou deduces that he is still in Kaiba’s mansion. He feels happy, but is unsure why. He had a strange dream, which he cannot recall. Something… about Kaiba being his boyfriend? His lips curl, into the little shape of a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that it is completely OOC for Yami Bakura to care about that stuff enough for any of this to happen... But sexual fantasies are weird like that?


End file.
